


Oral Sorcery

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a mission for Nova Corps, Peter starts whispering naughty things to Gamora, only to act like nothing happened. Fortunately for him, she likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oral Sorcery

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Written for the GotG Kink Meme (prompt [here](http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/1806.html?thread=57614#t57614))
> 
> 2) Includes the other Guardians and Rhomann Dey. (They're not in prominent roles, so I didn't list them in the tags.)

The first time Peter whispered in her ear, Gamora was standing at attention in the briefing room at Nova Corps, her hands clasped behind her and her back ramrod straight as she watched Denarian Dey outline a Nova cargo ship's course.   
  
Peter had been leaning against the wall near the door in an unprofessional slouch, his arms crossed during the first few minutes of Dey's mission request. Then, sometime later, he slinked right up behind Gamora.   
  
"You don't know how good you look right now, do you?"  
  
" _What_?" she snapped, stopping herself in time from instinctively grabbing him by the throat.  
  
Across the room, Dey stopped, his hand raised in front of the viewscreen. In one of his rare moments, Drax was paying close attention, and little Groot gazed rapturously up at the screen. Sitting in the same chair right beside him, Rocket twisted around to fix the two at the back with a smirk.  
  
"Sorry," Gamora said swiftly to Dey. "Please continue." She shot Peter a warning glare, and he just smiled his cheeky little lopsided smile as he stepped away from her, grabbing a seat up front next to Drax and swiveling it around so he could straddle it.  
  
Gamora was glad to see him focusing on the mission, but she couldn't help flicking her eyes to his exposed backside as he leaned forward, his muscles shifting under the thin fabric of his shirt. He made one or two inane quips when Dey paused, and patted Drax's shoulder.  
  
Toward the end of the meeting, Peter leaned back and turned around to look right at Gamora, and he _winked_ at her.

Despite all the names she called him inside her head, she couldn't ignore the building heat in her chest, and between her legs.

When they returned to their ship, she braced herself for more of his pointed looks or suggestive comments and was ready to counter them, but he made no such mention of his demeanor during the meeting. He spent the night checking his weapons and mask, marveling once again over Drax's surprising ability to cook, and dancing with Groot - who had already outgrown his pot, but barely reached Peter's upper legs.   
  
Inexplicably frustrated, Gamora sat up front at the controls with Rocket. To his credit, he didn't say anything about her strange relationship with Peter. At first she dreaded Rocket blurting out horrid jokes, but he mostly hummed to himself as he plotted the ship's course for the next day, occasionally complaining about how boring the job would be while he double-checked the fuel levels and weaponry.  
  
Nodding politely and then closing her eyes, Gamora allowed herself to think about Peter as she heard his music in the distance.  
  
Since their encounter with the Infinity Stone, he'd treated her like the others. But sometimes, when she and Quill happened to meet each other's eyes, her face grew hot and he showed a flicker of recognition. Over the course of the past month, she had had little time to dwell on their...  _connection_ , as the whole group suffered one mishap after another. Finally, they received a menial, but actual job. Then they took on another, then another that paid them well enough, and now they were recruited by the Nova Corps.   
  
As their luck increased, Peter began smiling more at Gamora, standing a little bit closer to her every week, and causing her heartrate to quicken when he greeted her in the mornings, his hair unruly and his shirt riding up his stomach.  
  
She refrained from voicing the effect he had on her. They were comrades in arms and business partners; it would be foolish for them to compromise the group for one night - or several, or more - of debauchery. She was still figuring herself out after a lifetime of enduring and inflicting pain, but she could not completely renounce the memory of Peter's skin pressed against hers.  
  
And, as he had made it clear, Peter still thought about it as well.  
  
"I do remember warning you that I will do everything in my power not to succumb to your pelvic sorcery," she had told him before they landed on Xandar, after Peter brushed past her and flashed her one of his sly smiles on the way to his room.  
  
He'd shaken his head and said, "But, see, what you failed to realize is my true talents lie in a very different area."  
  
Gamora had stared after him as he retreated. What could he possibly mean by that?  
  
If only she'd known, then, just how she would find out.

 

 

 

The only problem, really, was Peter's timing. He had always been unpredictable, but this was a whole new thing entirely.   
  
As everyone except for Groot took turns guiding the  _Milano_  alongside the Nova Corps' cargo ship, protecting it during its long journey, Peter took to sidling up behind or beside Gamora, murmuring things in her ear that didn't just cause the tiny hairs on her neck to stand on end.   
  
"Gotta admit, when I'm piloting all alone, all I can think about is you on my lap, riding me for hours."  
  
"If you only knew how hard I get, just lookin' at you..."  
  
She'd lost the desire to hold a blade to his throat when he made such advances, but even though she snapped at him to focus on the mission, he would slip away so quickly that it was as if he hadn't said anything.  
  
Trying to ignore the tightening sensation of her clothes and the growing wetness between her legs, Gamora looked on, curiously, as Peter glided with a practiced ease around his repaired and expanded ship. Feigning innocence, he picked up Groot and swung him around, asked Drax, "What's up?" only to grin at serious replies about the ceiling, and chided Rocket about carelessly leaving his 'projects' lying around.  
  
The fiend!

Not Rocket; Gamora could easily sidestep his explosives. Quill wasn't so easily avoidable - not that she  _wanted_  to avoid him, if she were being honest. He was indeed exacting a new kind of sorcery on her, seducing her as he'd done to all his conquests.  
  
No matter. Gamora was a hardened warrior and did not respond to such crass behavior, or lewd language.  
  
But that didn't mean she didn't secretly enjoy it.

 

 

 

After they docked, having safely escorted the Nova Corps' cargo vessel, Rocket suggested they all "Get plastered and have some fun for a change." The planet they landed on had a thriving economy, full of shops and historic landmarks, and to Rocket and Drax's delight, hundreds of bars. To Peter's delight, there was dancing in one of them.  
  
Gamora awkwardly stood next to a small floating table a good distance from the main area and watched everyone. She kept a careful eye on Drax as he took on a bet Rocket made and started downing a vat of local ale. A small crowd gathered around him and he seemed to fare well, so Gamora shifted her attention to the music and bobbed her head a little as she sipped her fizzy drink. She thought she was starting to understand dancing.  
  
"Come on, I know you can do better than that."  
  
She started, her drink sloshing a little out of its cup as she felt Peter slide up behind her. She quickly checked the others: Groot was standing on the bar, visibly cheering Drax on as he kept drinking, while Rocket laughed uproariously, collecting others' bets.   
  
"And I suppose you're going to teach me?" she said to Peter, feeling relaxed and quite bold herself, now that they'd finished a job.  
  
"Nah," he said, leaning even closer to her so she could hear him over the din. "I don't need to. You already know how to dance. You just need to loosen up a little."  
  
"What does that —" she was interrupted by a large and hulking figure who jostled past her to reach the growing circle around Drax. Almost automatically, Peter shielded her with his broad upper body, and Gamora set her half-spilled drink down.   
  
When she let go of her glass, Peter wound his hands slowly down her forearms, her wrists, and then settled both his hands on her hips.  
  
"This is what I mean," he said, guiding her with his lower body. She swayed, side to side, and felt Peter press up closer behind her, bending her hips in a low arc, his facial hair rough but not unpleasant against her neck. They moved together for a while, oblivious to everyone around them, and Gamora soon felt it, felt  _him_ , pressing up urgently against her.  
  
"Yeah," he murmured against her cheek. "Like that. God, you're so damn good. If we were alone..."  
  
She knew it was wrong. This whole thing was wrong, from the second he'd spoken to her in the conference room - no, since the moment they were about to kiss on Knowhere. Maybe even before then.  
  
"If we were alone, what?" she asked him.

"I'd let you have me any way you want," he said, his voice an octave lower than usual. "You could fuck me on this table. Up against that wall, or the bathroom door. Hell, I'd go down on you in a heartbeat, right here, right now, if I knew no one would notice."  
  
She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she could not only sense his want pushing against the small of her back, she could feel it in his voice. Strangely, the latter was what excited her. She swiveled her hips in a little circle, grinding back against Peter's erection. He  _groaned_ , thrusting up slowly against her ass.  
  
And then, when Gamora leaned back into him, opening her mouth to speak, he was gone. She was twisting and swaying against empty air, like a fool.  
  
She could only stare at Quill in shock as he leisurely strode toward Drax, who had just slammed down his empty vat of ale and gathered up Groot in his arms. Both of them waved to the crowd as Drax was raised up on his supporter's arms, all of them chanting as Rocket begrudgingly doled out units.  
  
Peter yelled up something that sounded congratulatory to Drax as he joined the throng, his hands on his hips and looking like he hadn't just been seconds away from having public intercourse with Gamora. She glared daggers at him - she even contemplated pulling one of her actual daggers out of her boot because of his nerve -  but after a few seconds, Peter turned around, looked at her, and winked.  
  
Suddenly, Gamora realized what he was doing.  
  
She stowed her daggers and smiled at him.

 

 

  
Most people would say they were out of control. They were sick, twisted, and shouldn't have been engaging in such a potentially dangerous game.  
  
Good thing they didn't care about most people.  
  
Gamora didn't even have to do much, just wait until Peter chose an unlikely moment to brush past her and whisper things like, "Wish I could taste you," and, "Love how your ass looks in leather."  
  
She'd never divulge their encounters to anyone. Not just because she could withstand eighty different types of torture, but because she wasn't used to having something this... intimate. And, truth be told, that was part of its allure, as well as the unspoken aspect.

Peter seemed to sense the days she was in no mood for games, but when she was, he was always up to play, teasing and deferring to her when the others looked at them, and working her up into a lather when they didn't. There had been a time when she would've found Peter disgusting, but she now thrilled in his random whisperings. She didn't know if it was simply what he was saying or  _how_  he said it: pure lust tinting his every word, completely unlike his silly camaraderie with the others. Whatever the reason, Gamora became just as aroused hearing Peter's obscene talk as he clearly was delivering it.   
  
Their new form of dancing completely bypassed the others. Or perhaps none of them cared. She knew they all knew by now that their true home was with each other, and if the other three had any qualms about Quill and Gamora's run-ins, they would speak up. They remained neutral on the matter.  
  
Peter, thankfully, did not.  
  
" _Fuck_ , I wanna touch you so damn bad," he murmured into her hair as he stepped up from behind and lightly traced the leather on her waist with his fingers. "I mean,  _really_  touch you. Been aching for it all day long. I wanna lick you, bite you so hard I'd leave marks all over that beautiful smooth skin." No sooner had he said that than he was heading down to the ship's engines, announcing to Rocket and Groot that he was coming. When Peter snuck a sly look over his shoulder to Gamora, she practically raced to her bunk. She muffled her ragged breathing with one hand as she pretended her fingers were Quill's with the other, imagining his teeth digging into her neck, her inner thighs, everywhere.

By far the strangest moment was after a short, but intense battle. When Gamora kicked a corpse off of her blade, freeing it, she took a step backward and came to a stop against Peter's chest.   
  
He laughed a little as her breath hitched. "God, you’re even more gorgeous like this," he growled to her through his mask, not even touching her, his tone and words reverberating down her body. She started to respond, but her attention shifted and she threw one of her daggers directly into an enemy that had been running up to stab Peter in the back.  
  
She glanced at him, and he told her in an awed, hushed tone, "Not gonna lie, I kind of want you to sit on my face right now."  
  
Then, just like all the other times, he stepped away to hail someone else in a jovial greeting. This time it was Drax, who had become fond of returning Star-Lord's one-armed hugs.   
  
It was getting to be too much. Gamora found herself facedown on her stomach each night, grinding her clit down on her hand as she replayed Quill's filthy phrases in her head. " _Bet you're so tight... Y'know, I've been gettin' off on the idea of you spanking me... We could go all night, I wouldn't stop until I got you off at_ least _three times._ "  
  
_Fuck_   _you, Peter Quill,_  Gamora thought as she thrust against her hand, using his crude vocabulary to release the desperate frenzy he'd built up within her.

 

 

 

About a week after the battle, Gamora cleaned her blades in the  _Milano's_  kitchen sink while the others slept. She hadn't turned on the lights because she had planned on retiring soon, anyway.

There might have been another reason. 

As she placed her daggers on the weapons rack, she smiled, sensing Quill approaching her.  
  
"Did I ever tell you how much fun I think it'd be to have your legs wrapped around my head?"  
  
Before he could slip away again, Gamora reached backward and grabbed Peter's wrists, wrapping them around her waist.  
  
"Yes, you have," she said. "Several times, in fact. That is a wicked tongue you have,  _Star-Lord_. Let us see if you can put it to other uses."

"Hmm, not bad. Could maybe use a little practice, but I think you've got the — Woah!"  
  
She spun around, shoving him down on the nearby table and mounting him in swift, fluid movements. He buried his hands in her hair as she opened her mouth to his, bucking her hips insistently. The table creaked under their combined weight, under her riding Quill, kissing him, and sliding her hands up his back.   
  
He pulled away and brushed her hair to the side, his voice a soft rumble as he said, "No, not like this. Can we move?"   
  
Immediately after she nodded, he picked her up, handling her with ease. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he walked them over to his room, telling her softly to duck along the way. She pressed her face tight against his shoulder, her breath falling fast on his neck.  
  
He lowered her slowly onto his extended bunk, and began to lift her top. Pausing, he met her eyes with a questioning look, and she allowed him to undress her. As he did, he laved her collarbone, her nipples, and then tilted her backward so he could slide his mouth down down her taut stomach.  
  
"Lie back all the way," he whispered against her hipbone as he curled his fingers around the edge of her lower garments. When she was fully horizontal, he turned with her, sliding down the rest of her clothes so that she was beneath him, completely naked. Not wanting to be the only one bare and vulnerable in his bed, she tugged at his shirt and he moved backward so she could pull it off, but stayed her hand when she eagerly reached for his bottoms.  
  
"Not now," he said, looking both determined and desiring as he took in the sight of her. She tossed his shirt aside as he framed her figure with his hands, but didn't settle on top of her.   
  
Gamora's breath hitched as Peter's fingers ghosted down her curves and as he languidly mouthed her breasts, first one, then the other. Her heart beat faster as he kissed further down her body, stopping to bite her skin here and there. She watched, transfixed, as he curled his arms around her thighs and hoisted her legs over his shoulders, then lowered his head toward her mound.

Despite her desire, she started to panic and squirm in this new, confined position, her thighs locked in his arms as he spread her legs further apart. She turned her head to the side, irrationally angry at herself for succumbing to him after she'd said she wouldn't.  
  
He stopped what he was doing and said, “Gamora, look at me," waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she did, reluctantly, he asked, “Do you still want this?"   
  
She considered it for a moment, then said, "Yes."  
  
His expression softened. "I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I'm not gonna leave you hanging this time, I swear. Not because you'd kill me if I did, but because I  _really_  want to do this. Just relax.”  
  
His eyes were so earnest, his touch so caring, that Gamora knew he was telling the truth. She sighed, then let her limbs go loose, and Peter smiled, licking his lips before bending down between her legs.  
  
She expected him to just shove his tongue right into her, but instead he kissed the tip of her slit, then brushed his lips softly against her inner thighs. He worked for so long around the area she wanted him the most, she grew desperate and began to gyrate her hips.  
  
"Hold on," he said as he laughed softly, his beard rubbing against her skin and tickling her a bit as she stared down at him, willing him to continue.  
  
" _Now_ , Peter," she hissed - or at least, she tried to. It came out sounding more like a moan, and she couldn't help adding, "Please."  
  
"That's all you had to say," he breathed against her, then leaned down and stroked her clit with just the tip of his tongue.  
  
Gamora drew in a sharp breath at the sensation, her chest heaving as Peter drew tiny circles on her nub. She shuddered in his tight grasp as he shifted to other patterns, things she couldn't discern, but didn't care what they were.   
  
Then, he licked a line straight down the middle of her slick folds. Licked back up, then down again, and pressed his tongue flat against her clit,  _hard_  as she unleashed a true moan, throwing her head back against his pillow.  
  
He sucked and licked quietly as Gamora writhed beneath him on his bed, biting the back of her hand to keep from waking the others. She alternated between closing her eyes to lifting her head up so she could watch Peter. He quickly picked up on her pleasure points and maneuvers that made her thrust up against his mouth. He knew when to retract his tongue, how to press forward and twist, when to blow gently on her clit, and when to slide back in.  
  
Soon, she had one fist buried deep in his curls, pushing his head further into her as she stared at him. He switched his attention up to her eyes; his were dark with desire as he closed his mouth flush against her, grazing her ever so slightly with his teeth and lapping slowly.   
  
When she eased her grip on him, he withdrew and panted, “Knew you'd taste this good. Do you wanna come? I wanna make you come so hard. Let it out, Gamora, just let it all out. I want you to.”  
  
She kept her eyes locked on him, barely aware she was saying, " _Yes, do it_ ," and then he was driving his tongue so deep in and out of her, fucking her relentlessly with it. She nearly sobbed at the sensation, kicking one foot against Peter's back.  
  
Without warning, he pulled his tongue back and placed his lips all around her entrance, creating a seal with his mouth. He sucked and sucked, and it was so sudden and there was so much pressure, he was pushing his mouth down on her so hard that  _oh fuck there it is YES_ , she was shaking and squeezing his head with her thighs, biting back more curses in half a dozen languages and throbbing, shaking, releasing right into his mouth all at once.  
  
She must have lost time somehow because the next thing she was aware of was Peter sliding up the bed to kiss her. She tasted herself on his lips and she  _liked_  it. He must have truly liked it too, because he had swallowed every drop and licked his lips before touching them to hers. He sighed contentedly as he hugged her close to him, watching her continue to recover.

Sated and wanting to return the favor, Gamora wound her hand down his bare chest and then the muscles of his abdomen in an attempt to reach his erection. He idly brushed her hand away before she could grab onto him.   
  
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. “Plenty of time for that later.”  
  
Gamora struggled to find a response to that. She settled on, "Then what do we do now?”  
  
Chuckling, he eased her up his chest and she followed; soon, she was straddling his hips, and he urged her to rise over him even more as he slid down his sheets. He clearly wanted to put his tongue inside her again, just in a different position.   
  
She wasn’t upset - quite the opposite, in fact - but couldn't help feeling a little confused. “Do you really want to do this again?”  
  
Peter rolled his eyes, his head jutting out from between her legs, his hair wild and matted against his pillow. “Gamora, I must’ve have told you like a hundred times how much I want to get you off,” he said as he grazed the back of her thighs with his fingertips and started to lift her up and over his face. “I hope you know by now that I’m not  _all_  talk.”

 


End file.
